ity is unnatural, and therefore he tends to favor an emotion- based or sentimentalist theory of morality. There are a number of problems with Veneer Theory. In the first place, despite its popularity in the social sciences, the credentials of the principle of pursuing your own best interests as a principle of practical reason have never been established. To show that this is a principle of practical rea- son one would have to demonstrate its normative founda- tion. I can think of only a few philosophers—Joseph Butler, Henry Sidgwick, Thomas Nagel, and Derek Parfit among them—who have even attempted anything along these lines. 3 And the idea that what people actually do is pursue their own best interests is, as Butler pointed out long ago, rather laughable. 4 In the second place, it is not even clear that the idea of self-interest is a well-formed concept when applied to an an- imal as richly social as a human being. Unquestionably, we have some irreducibly private interests—in the satisfaction of our appetites, in food and a certain kind of sex, say. But our personal interests are not limited to having things. We 100 CHRISTINE M. KORSGAARD 3 Butler, in Fifteen Sermons Preached at the Rolls Chapel (1726), partly reprinted in Five Sermons Preached at the Rolls Chapel and A Dissertation Upon the Nature of Virtue,edited by Stephen Darwall, Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Company, 1983; Sidgwick, in The Methods of Ethics (1st ed., 1874, 7th ed., 1907). Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Company, 1981); Nagel, in The Possibility of Altruism (Prince- ton: Princeton University Press, 1970); and Parfit, in Reasons and Persons (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1984). For a discussion of the problems with providing a norma- tive foundation for this supposed rational principle, see my “The Myth of Egoism” published by the University of Kansas as the Lindley Lecture for 1999. 4 “Men daily, hourly sacrifice the greatest known interest to fancy, inquisitiveness, love, or hatred, any vagrant inclination. The thing to be lamented is not that men have so great a regard to their own good or interest in the present world, for they have not enough, but that they have so little to the good of others.” Butler, Five Ser- mons Preached at the Rolls Chapel and A Dissertation Upon the Nature of Virtue,p.21. also have interests in doing things and being things. Many of these interests cannot set us wholly against the interests of society, simply because they are unintelligible outside of so- ciety and the cultural traditions that society supports. You could intelligibly want to be the world’s greatest ballerina, but you could not intelligibly want to be the world’s only ballerina, since, at least arguably, if there were only one, there wouldn’t be any. Even for having things there is a limit to the coherent pursuit of self-interest. If you had all the money in the world, you would not be rich. And of course we also have genuine interests in certain other people, from whom our own interests cannot be separated. So the idea that we can clearly identify our own interests as something set apart from or over against the interests of others is strained to say the least. And yet even this is not the deepest thing wrong with Ve- neer Theory. Morality is not just a set of obstructions to the pursuit of our interests. Moral standards define ways of re- lating to people that most of us, most of the time, find natu- ral and welcome. According to Kant, morality demands that we treat other people as ends in themselves, never merely as means to our own ends. Certainly we do not manage to treat all other people at all times in accordance with this standard. But the image of someone who never treated anyone else as an end in himself and never expected to be treated that way in return is even more unrecognizable than that of someone who always does so. For what we are then imagining is someone who always treats everyone else as a tool or an ob- stacle and always expects to be treated that way in return. What we are imagining is someone who never spontaneously and unthinkingly tells the truth in ordinary conversation, but constantly calculates the effects of what he says to others COMMENT 101 on the promotion of his projects. What we are imagining is someone who doesn’t resent it (though he dislikes it) when he himself is lied to, trampled on, and disregarded, because deep down he thinks that is all that one human being really has any reason to expect from any other. What we are imag- ining, then, is a creature who lives in a state of deep internal solitude, essentially regarding himself as the only person in a world of potentially useful things—although some of those things have mental and emotional lives and can talk or fight back. 5 It is absurd to suggest that this is what most human beings are like, or long to be like, beneath a thin veneer of re- straint. But it is also absurd to think that nonhuman animals are motivated by self-interest. The concept of what is in your own best interests, if it makes any sense at all, requires a kind of grip on the future and an ability to calculate that do not seem available to a nonhuman animal. Just as importantly, acting for the sake of your best interests requires the capacity to be motivated by the abstract conception of your overall or long-term good. The idea of self-interest seems simply out of place when thinking about nonhuman action. I am not at all inclined to deny that the other intelligent animals do things on purpose, but I would expect these purposes to be local and concrete—to eat something, mate with someone, avoid punishment, have some fun, stop the fight—but not to do what is best for themselves on the whole. Nonhuman an- imals are not self-interested. It seems more likely that they are, in Harry Frankfurt’s phrase, wanton: they act on the instinct or desire or emotion that comes uppermost. Learning 102 CHRISTINE M. KORSGAARD 5 I owe some of these points to Thomas Nagel, The Possibility of Altruism,pp.82 ff. Nagel characterizes the condition as one of “practical solipsism.” and experience may change the order of their desires so that different ones come uppermost: the prospect of punishment may dampen an animal’s ardor to the point where the ani- mal will refrain from satisfying its appetite, but that is a dif- ferent matter than calculating what is in your best interests and being motivated by a conception of your long-term good. For all of these reasons Veneer Theory seems to me to be rather silly. I therefore want to set it aside, and talk about de Waal’s more central and interesting question, the ques- tion of the roots of morality in our evolved nature, where they are located and how deep they go. 0 If someone asked me whether I personally believe that the other animals are more like human beings than most people suppose, or whether I believe there is some form of deep discontinuity between humans and the other animals, I would have to say yes to both alternatives. In thinking about this issue it is important to remember that human beings have a vested interest in what de Waal calls “anthro- podenial.” We eat nonhuman animals, wear them, perform painful experiments on them, hold them captive for pur- poses of our own—sometimes in unhealthy conditions— we make them work, and we kill them at will. Without even taking up the urgent moral questions to which these prac- tices give rise, I think it is fair to say that we are more likely to be comfortable in our treatment of our fellow creatures if we think that being eaten, worn, experimented on, held captive, made to work, and killed, cannot mean anything like the same thing to them that it would to us. And that in turn seems more likely to the extent they are unlike us in COMMENT 103 their emotional and cognitive lives. Of course the fact that we have a vested interest in denying the similarities between ourselves and the other animals does nothing to show that there are such similarities. But once you correct for that vested interest there seems little reason to doubt that obser- vations and experiments of the sort de Waal does and de- scribes, as well as our own everyday interactions with our animal companions, show exactly what they seem to show: that many animals are intelligent, curious, loving, playful, bossy, belligerent creatures in many ways very much like ourselves. But I don’t find a total gradualism very tempting either. To me human beings seem clearly set apart by our elaborate cultures, historical memory, languages with enormously complex grammars and refined expressive power, the prac- tices of art, literature, science, philosophy, and of course of telling jokes. I would also add to this list something that doesn’t often appear on it but should—our startling capac- ity to make friends across the boundaries between species, and to induce the other animals who live with us to do so as well. I am also inclined to agree with Freud and Nietzsche— whose rather gaudier explanations of the evolution of moral- ity don’t seem to tempt de Waal very much—that human be- ings seem psychologically damaged, in ways that suggest some deep break with nature. An old-fashioned philosophi- cal project, dating back to Aristotle, attempts to locate the central difference that accounts for all these other differences between human beings and the other animals. As a very old- fashioned philosopher, I am tempted by that project. What I’d like to do now is talk about one piece of that project that bears on the question of the extent to which morality repre- sents a break with our animal past. 104 CHRISTINE M. KORSGAARD Moral standards are standards governing the way we act, and the question of the extent to which animals are moral or proto-moral beings arises because they unquestionably do act. De Waal’s conclusions are largely derived from consider- ing what animals do.In his books, de Waal often canvases different possible intentional interpretations of animal be- havior and actions, and describes experiments designed to find out which is correct. A capuchin rejects a cucumber when her partner is offered a grape—is she protesting the unfairness, or is she just holding out for a grape? Do the chimps share food because they are grateful to those who have groomed them, or is it just that the grooming has put them in a relaxed and beneficent mood? Sometimes what appear to be evolutionary explanations of animal behavior seem to bleed over into intentional interpretations of their actions, as when de Waal suggests in Good Natured that chimpanzees “strive for the kind of community that is in their own best interest.” 6 For reasons I have already men- tioned, it seems to me difficult to believe a chimpanzee has anything like this on his mind. But in other places de Waal carefully separates the question of the extent to which mon- keys and apes do the things he talks about intentionally or deliberately from the question of what explains their ten- dency to do them. De Waal himself chastises veneer theorists for inferring the selfishness of our intentions from the “self- ishness” of our genes. The question of intention is a question about how an episode in which an animal does something looks from the acting animal’s own point of view, whether it is plausible to think that the animal acts with a certain kind of purpose in COMMENT 105 6 Good Natured,p.205. mind. I think there is a temptation to think that the question whether we can see the origins of morality in animal behav- ior depends on how exactly we interpret their intentions, whether their intentions are “good” or not. I think that, at least taken in the most obvious way, this is a mistake. It seems to make some sense if you hold the kind of sentimen- talist moral theory favored by Hutcheson and Hume, since according to these thinkers an action gets its moral character from the fact that onlookers or spectators would approve or disapprove of it. At least in the case of what Hume called “the natural virtues,” these thinkers believed that the agent who does a morally good thing need not be motivated by ex- pressly moral considerations. In fact for this reason, some of the sentimentalists of the eighteenth century and their crit- ics explicitly discussed the question whether according to their theories the other animals could be thought of as vir- tuous. Hutcheson’s immediate predecessor, Shaftesbury, had asserted that you could not count as virtuous unless you were capable of moral judgment, and that therefore we would not call a good horse virtuous. 7 But since according to this sort of theory moral judgment need not play a role in moral motivation, it is not clear why not. Hutcheson there- fore boldly asserted that it is not an absurdity to suppose that “creatures void of reflection” have some “low virtues.” 8 Although de Waal praises sentimentalist theories, he denies that his case rests simply on the existence of animals with 106 CHRISTINE M. KORSGAARD 7 In An Inquiry Concerning Virtue or Merit (1699). I am quoting from D. D. Raphael’s British Moralists,vol. I, Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Company, 1991, pp. 173–174. 8 In An Inquiry Concerning the Original of our Ideas of Virtue or Moral Good (1726), Moralists, in ibid., vol. I, p. 295. In a later work, Hutcheson argued that it was confused to think that we can be motivated by moral considerations (Illustrations on intentions we approve of: “whether animals are nice to each other is not the issue, nor does it matter much whether their behavior fits our moral preferences or not. The relevant question rather is whether they possess capacities for reci- procity and revenge, for the enforcement of social rules, for the settlements of disputes, and for sympathy and empathy.” (p. 16). But he seems to share an assumption with these early sentimentalists, which is that the morality of an action is a matter of content of the intention with which it is done. I think this is wrong, and to explain why, I want to take a closer look at the concept of acting intentionally or on pur- pose. This concept, I believe, does not mark off a single phe- nomenon, but a number of things that can be ranged on a scale. It is only at a certain point on the scale that the ques- tion whether actions have a moral character can arise. At the bottom of the scale, there is the idea of intention- ally or functionally describable movement. The concept of intention in this form applies to any object whatever that has some sort of functional organization, including not only human beings and animals but also plants and machines. Within the economy of a functionally organized object, cer- tain movements can be described as having certain pur- poses. The heart beats to pump the blood, the alarm rings to wake you up, your computer warns you against a mis- spelling, the plant’s leaves reach out towards the sun to col- lect its rays. There is no implication that the purposes served COMMENT 107 the Moral Sense (1728), ed. Bernard Peach, Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1971, pp. 139–140). The primary source for Hume’s view is Book III of Trea- tise of Human Nature (1739–1740, 2nd edition, ed. L. A. Selby-Bigge and P. H. Nid- ditch, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1978). The primary discussion of the role of moral motivation in moral thought is Book III, Part II, Section One, pp. 477–484. by these movements are before the minds of the objects that move, or even before the minds of someone who created those objects. Attributing purposes to these movements just reflects the fact that the object is functionally organized. In the case of living things, especially animals, including the so-called “lower” animals, some of these purposive or in- tentional movements are guided by the animal’s perception. A fish swims upwards towards a surface disturbance that may mean an insect; a cockroach runs under cover as you try to swat him with the newspaper; a spider crawls towards the moth that is caught in the middle of her web. Here we begin to be tempted to use the language of action, and it is clear enough why: when an animal’s movements are guided by her perceptions, they are under the control of her mind, and when they are under control of her mind, we are tempted to say that they are under the animal’s own control. And this, after all, is what makes the difference between an action and a mere movement—that an action can be attrib- uted to the agent, that it is done under the agent’s own con- trol. At this level, should we say that the animal acts inten- tionally, or on purpose? It depends how you understand the question. The animal is directing her movements and her movement are intentional movements—the movements have a purpose. In that sense the animal acts with a purpose, but at this stage there is no need to say that this purpose is some- how before the animal’s mind. Admittedly, when we try to look at the situation from the animal’s point of view, when we ask ourselves what exactly it is that the animal perceives that determines her movements, it is almost irresistible to describe it purposively. Why does the spider go towards the moth caught in her web unless there is some sense in which the spider sees the moth as food and therefore some sense in 108 CHRISTINE M. KORSGAARD which she is trying to get food? But however exactly we un- derstand the spider’s intention, we need not understand it as a matter of the spider’s entertaining thoughts about what she is trying to achieve. On the other hand, once we are dealing with an intelligent animal, there is no reason not to suppose that her purpose is before her mind. Furthermore, I see no reason why we should not suppose that there is a gradual continuum be- tween whatever is going on when a spider’s perceptions di- rect her towards the moth and straightforward cognitive awareness of something as what you want.And when such cognitive awareness is in place, presumably the possibility of learning from experience about how to get what you want and avoid what you don’t is greatly enhanced. One can al- ways learn from experience by conditioning, but when you are aware of your purpose you can also begin to learn from experience by thinking and remembering. But even if there is a gradual continuum, it seems right to say that an animal that can entertain his purposes before his mind, and perhaps even entertain thoughts about how to achieve those purposes, is exerting a greater degree of con- scious control over his own movements than, say, the spider, and is therefore in a deeper sense an agent. There is now, as in some of de Waal’s cases, room for disagreement about what the proper intentional description of an action is, for it is at this level we become committed to keying the inten- tional description of the action to what is going on from the agent’s own point of view. (Freudian slips pose a problem for the claim I just made, but I want to leave that aside for now.) This is a difference from the earlier stage: when we do describe the spider as “trying to get food,” we don’t care whether that’s what the spider thinks she’s doing. At the level COMMENT 109 [...]... as I proposed in The Sources of Normativity, pp 157– 160 For Freud’s account, see Civilization and Its Discontents (trans James Strachey, New York: W W Norton, 1 961 ), especially chapter VII For Nietzsche’s, see The Genealogy of Morals (trans Walter Kaufman and R J Hollingdale, New York: Random House, 1 967 ), especially essay II COMMENT 115 feelings and the resulting actions to be proper if they are what... the grounds of our beliefs and actions—is the source of reason, a capacity that is distinct from intelligence Intelligence is the ability to learn about the world, to learn from experience, to make new connections of cause and effect, and put that knowledge to work in pursuing your ends Reason by contrast looks inward, and focuses on the connections between mental states and activities: whether 11Being... from the point of view of others, and to enter into their feelings about us Through the eyes of others we become the spectators of our own conduct, dividing internally, as Smith described it, into an actor and a spectator, and forming judgments about the propriety of our own feelings and motives The internal spectator transforms our natural desire to be thought well of and praised into something deeper,... principles and values is a very different thing from a form of life governed by instinct, desire, and emotion—even a very intelligent and sociable form of life governed by instinct, desire, and emotion Kant’s story about the man deciding to face death rather than bear false witness is the stuff of high moral drama, but it has its constant analog in our everyday lives We have ideas about what we ought to do and. .. constant analog in our everyday lives We have ideas about what we ought to do and to be like and we are constantly trying to live up to them Apes do not live in that way We struggle to be honest and courteous and responsible and brave in circumstances where it is difficult Even if apes are sometimes courteous, responsible, and brave, it is not because they think they should be Even as primitive a phenomenon... observations and experiments have exposed capacities for identifying and responding to the needs of conspecifics, apparently most sophisticated in chimpanzees and bonobos, but present in other primates as well His detailed accounts of the ways in which these capacities are manifested have broken the stranglehold of the fear, once common among primatologists, that postulating complex psychological states and. .. version of Veneer Theory I have sketched, and the one that occupies de Waal, takes a specific view of the starting point and the end point Back in our evolutionary past, we had ancestors, as recent as the common ancestors of human beings and chimpanzees, who lacked any capacities for sympathy and altruism Present human beings have ways of disciplining their selfish urges, and the theory thinks of morality as... example, that human morality reduces to dispositions to avoid incest (and similar simple tendencies) and that these have evolutionary explanations that apply to a wide range of organisms.1 STCT effectively takes the terminus of the 1 See, for example, Michael Ruse and E O Wilson, “Moral Philosophy as Applied Science,” Philosophy, 61 , 19 86, 173–92 Although this essay takes a radically oversimplified view... this argument in The Sources of Normativity, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 19 96 13 The Descent of Man, p 70 14 Freud and Nietzsche also appeal to our social nature to explain the origin of morality They think that our ability to command ourselves is the result of our internalizing our dominance instincts and turning them against ourselves Psychologically, the phenomenon of dominance seems to... a teenager’s efforts to be “cool” is a manifestation of the human tendency to live a life guided by ideals rather than merely driven by impulses and desires We also suffer deeply from our self-evaluations and act in sick and evil ways as a result This is part of what I had in mind earlier when I said that human beings seem psychologically damaged in a way that suggests a break with nature But none . about what we ought to do and to be like and we are constantly trying to live up to them. Apes do not live in that way. We struggle to be honest and courteous and responsible and brave in circumstances. connections of cause and effect, and put that knowledge to work in pursuing your ends. Reason by contrast looks inward, and focuses on the connections between mental states and activities: whether COMMENT. Nietzsche’s, see The Genealogy of Morals (trans. Walter Kaufman and R. J. Hollingdale, New York: Random House, 1 967 ), especially essay II. feelings and the resulting actions to be proper if they are what